Rosemary
by deemosakura
Summary: Trapped.. it is the only word that can describe her current situation. Nineteen-year-old Rosemary finds herself in a strange place one fateful morning. She doesn't remember anything about her past, nor herself. She only knows her name and the keen sense that she needs to get away. But from whom or what, she hasn't the slightest clue.
1. Chapter 1

The artificial light came in late near the top of the room, casting plain blue rectangles onto the wooden floorboards and the furniture. A barred opening was letting in the light, positioned exactly in the middle at the top of the north wall. Rosemary looked up at the makeshift window; it was obvious someone had added those bars by themselves. The bars were uneven and slightly bent and debris clung to them where they were jabbed into the stone. She could tell from here that a bit of tugging and brute strength could free them from their concrete prison. Unfortunately, they were too high up and out of reach for Rosemary to attack them.

Rosemary heard and saw nothing outside through the metal bars; there was only a deafening silence that had been stretching for hours without end and what seemed like an empty stoned corridor. Earlier, people were milling around outside, speaking in loud and comfortable voices, the shadows of their legs moving along the room as they passed by the little barred window. Rosemary recognized some of the voices, but she couldn't really place where or how.

They were practically killing her with their familiarity; earlier she tried to scream out at them, to call for help. But her voice wouldn't come out, only a strange warble.

Rosemary now sits on one of the beds, her back slouched against the headboard, her knees up, a look of defeat on her face. Her stomach rumbled, begging for food; Rosemary had to fight the urge and lay down and rock herself for comfort.

She would if she didn't feel that she was too old to do so.

She glanced around the room, looking for the thousandth time for a clue as to where she was. Like before, it was eerily quiet and neat considering her situation. The room was entirely symmetrical: two beds were opposite each other, facing each other.

On the other side of the room, wooden drawers stood on either side of the bed. There are pieces of folded paper on top of each drawer; the ones on Rosemary's sides contained random series of numbers and quotes. She assumed the ones on the other side are the same as well. The walls were bare and clean. On her side, the bed was in disarray and the drawers were knocked over. Balled up pieces of paper scattered around the floor near the bed, pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly about, and on the walls were tiny streaks of fresh blood.

Earlier Rosemary was banging on the wall, and digging into it, thinking that maybe she could dig her way out of the room. The only results were bruised hands and bloodied fingers.

Rosemary blew a sigh and slid down to lay on the bed, the blankets crinkling beneath her, loud in her ears. She woke up like this this morning, lost and confused. And in shackles. Both of her legs are chained to the bed. Fortunately, they were long enough that she was able to walk to the window, albeit it was a few feet above her head. Her ankles were bruised black and blue where the shackles were; it was an ugly sight.

Where was she? Who was she? She kept repeating the questions in her head. It just doesn't make any sense. Yesterday... what happened yesterday? Rosemary can't remember anything. It made her heart tighten up, and her eyes danced around the ceiling, trying to imagine what her life was before this.

A loud bang snapped Rosemary out of her daze. Suddenly aware of her horrible situation, she climbed out of bed and hid behind it, her heartbeat racing, her breathing ragged and her hands clutching to the sheets like she was holding on to dear life.

A million thoughts flashed through her head. Her captor is here to end her. She'll be tortured endlessly for answers she doesn't have. They'll cut off her tongue, they'll drug her, they-

A woman in a maid's costume came into the room holding a tray of steaming food; at the sight of the mess and destruction Rosemary had created, she seemed to falter a bit, her eyes widening and her mouth slighting gaping. The woman had short auburn curls that stopped at her chin; some gray hairs were visible through the bonnet that she wore. She had an apologetic look on her face. She looked harmless, trustworthy even, with her easy green eyes and comfortable countenance. But Rosemary has her doubts; after all, _she_ was the one tied to a wall. This woman could have chained her here.

Her eyes lingered on the stranger's face; they eventually went to land on the tray in her hands.

Rosemary shrank back despite her stomach calling out for the food. The maid was wearing an apologetic look as she set the tray of food down on the bed cautiously. "Oh dear, look at what you've done." She gave a Rosemary a small smile, "Good afternoon, Miss. Have you slept well?"

She sat down on the bed and began to make some tea for the girl cowering in fear. "I'm so very sorry, Miss. I'm sure you don't know anything. To be frank, neither do I. But master insists on keeping you here, and his orders are law." The woman gave a sad chuckled as she added some sugar in a cup of green tea. "Had to learn that the hard way. But enough of the past. You must be hungry. Chef made you some eggs and soup. It's not filling but it's enough. Here, eat up." The woman picked up the plate of scrambled eggs and offered it to Rosemary. When it was clear that the frightened girl had no intentions of touching the food or the plate, with a defeated sigh, the maid withdrew her arm and set the plate down again on the tray.

"Please, Miss. Master would be very angry if you starve yourself."

 _Why should I worry about him?_ Rosemary wanted to ask, but she can't seem to speak. She simply just shook her head no.

But her stomach betrayed her. In the awkward silence, a loud rumbled came from her stomach. Rosemary flinched and shrank further away from the strange woman and the delicious smelling food.

The woman gave Rosemary a lopsided grin. "I guess I should leave you now, Miss." The maid placed the cup of tea down, got up, and went to the door. "Sorry there are no utensils for you to use; Master fears you might use it to.." The woman's voice trailed off, and she blushed, quickly shaking her head and changing the subject. "My name's Seraphina, by the way. You'll be in my care until Master decrees someone else. Please eat, Miss, keep your health up. I'll see you again tonight."

When the door closed, the same loud bang resonated through the air.

 _I guess that was the lock, huh..._

Faint footsteps could be heard as the woman walked away.

After a few minutes of silent torture, Rosemary finally got off of the floor and itched cautiously towards the tray of food. True to the lady's word there were no utensils, just a plate of scrambled eggs, a bowl of vegetable soup, two rolls of bread, and a cup of green tea. Even though they were plain, they smelled heavenly.

It was a risk, she knew, in eating the food; it could have been poisoned. But her stomach was aching so much.

Rosemary reached out and grabbed one of the rolls. If she was going to find answers to her many questions, if she was having any wish to escape, she's going to have to play along with the maid and her master. Filled with a sudden surge of determination, she took a gamble with the bread and bit into it.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : This is just a little "project" I gave myself to occupy my free time. I wrote another TLC fanfic a long time ago on Wattpad; unfortunately, it's erased and gone. So I'm starting anew using Beauty and the Beast as my inspiration. I dunno when I'll be posting more chapters; I'm also thinking of salvaging my memories to write the older fic again. But that's a thought for later; thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

Seraphina hummed herself a little tune as she walked down the hall to occupy her mind; she wouldn't want the Master to tap into her mind and find out that she'd defy orders after all. Her mind kept going back to the young girl at the end of the hall. She'd looked so scared, which was understandable. But she was braver that Seraphina thought; if Seraphine was in her shoes, she was sure she'll break down in a sobbing mess.

"Seraphina," as a low voice speaking out from her left. She paused, dreading to turn her head. She took a deep breath, turned her head, and peaked into the gloomy room directly beside her; it was cast entirely in darkness. There were dark shadows in the room that outlined the furniture; they all had jagged sharps. Even though the hallway was full of light, it failed to penetrate this room's darkness.

It was impossible to know where he was.

The maid grumbled inwardly. She hated this room, she hated the darkness, the coldness, and the silence that came with it. Why does Master prefer to dwell in this particular room? For some sort of eerie effect?

Seraphine stopped humming and put on her best fake smile. "Yes, master." She stepped into the room, her legs going slightly numb. "I've delivered the food Chef Bouche made for the girl."

"Good," came his low voice.

Silence.

"Please come back there tonight to collect the dishes and to bring her dinner. Make sure she's still alive," he said a few minutes later. He gave a flick of his wrist, signaling the maid that she was dismissed.

"Yes, master."

As she walked away, Seraphina tried to recall what exactly made her master the way he is today. She can't remember much; every time she dwelled into that part of her memories, a sharp pain would arch through her whole body and make her crimple. Headaches and nausea would be inflicted on her for weeks, but even so, she was expected to do her duties at the Treesworth Manor. She'll have to answer to him if she doesn't.

Seraphine shuddered when her head began to hurt.

In the kitchen, Bouche and Elara were at the sink, cleaning the dishes from this morning. Earlier, the master's associates came over for a little luncheon; they were there to converse about Earth and the threats against Luna. The head of the house never showed up; instead, he was away in that room of his.

"Oh, my stars you are alive!" Elara exclaimed as Seraphina put on a pair of gloves to help with the dishes, her head still aching a bit from earlier. She went over to where the other woman stood and took that sponge from her. She then automatically pick up a dirty plate and began to scrub it clean.

A man with a chef's hat and a lumberjack beard nodded in agreement as he dried off a cup, said in a thick German accent, "We thought you were mauled to death; we heard a loud bang. How is the girl, Sera?"

Seraphina saw the young girl on the other side of the bed, trying to sink into the floor. "Doing well, frightened of course but I know she can make it through whatever crosses her path." She looked back at the memory. The poor girl was as white as the sheets, her fingers bone white as it was clutching onto the bed. But her eyes showed a fierceness and a defiance that had shocked Seraphina.

Elara's eyes widen and she motioned for her friend to be quiet. "Sera!" she whispered-shouted, "You know you can't talk like that! What if the master hears?"

The chef gave a chuckle and picked up another wet cup. "Elara is right you know. Remember Viktor?" Seraphina cringed inwardly, handing the plate to Elara to wash out the soap. "Don't remind me. That was such a tragic day." Bouche shrugged. "I'm just saying, that could happen to you if you keep don't keep your mouth shut. And that's a shame, I quite like that mouth of yours." Bouche gave Seraphina a sly smirk.

A blush creeping up Elara's face, she splashed some water in the cook's face. "Oh please, get a room!"

Seraphina's eyes landed on her friend; Elara doesn't know it yet but Sera knew she has a crush on Bouche. It was quite obvious; even the targeted man knows about Elara's feelings. It was just fun to tease the poor girl. The three servants worked in silence for the remainder of the dishes because the master doesn't like it when his workers converse with themselves.

When dinner came, Seraphina brought food to her master's new toy as instructed. The room was in more of a mess than before. This time, the bed was flipped over, the mattress was leaning against the other bed, broken pieces of glass were scattered about.

And the girl was out of sight.

Seraphina stopped dead in her tracks. What is she going to do? What is she going to tell the master?

Sera let out a scream and ducked as the tray she was carrying that afternoon came hurtling towards her face; the current tray in her hands slipping from her fingers, splattering the food on the floor.

Rushed footsteps came from behind her.

"Sera!" it was Elara. "I was cleaning the windows when I heard something clatter. Why did you scream? Is somethin-" She stopped short when she saw the scene before Seraphina. "Sweet stars, what happened in here?" Comprehension came into her eyes when the young girl came to view from behind the flipped bed frame, blood dripping from her hands. A large piece of glass was in her hands; warm, red blood dripping down her fingers and onto the floor. She had the glass pointed downwards; she reminded Sera of a weak girl trying to lift up a heavy sword.

Seraphina was beginning to feel sick again; the sight of blood was too much for her.

"Whoa, there. Hey, hey, hi," Elara said to the girl, in that gentle voice she always uses to a difficult child or when she's trying to persuade a person. Elara inched forward slowly, her hands outstretched to show that she was harmless. The young girl backed away, but nevertheless, she bent her knees a little like she was going to attack at any moment, the chains at her feet scraping against the floor. A scowl was on her face, the blood flowing down her fingertips gushed a little bit faster.

Sera glanced at Elara uncertainly.

Elara, like most servants, doesn't have full control of her gift, but her control was better than most. Behind the master's back, Elara would practice and strengthen her mind ever so often with the help of Sera or Bouche. Over the years she'd gotten better but Sera wasn't sure if she could use it on the girl; after all, she was willing to be under Elara's control.

The girl certainly was not.

Sera could see the beads of sweat on Elara's forehead and nose. "It's ok. Really." The maid took another hesitant step forward; the girl just bent her knees more. Elara inhaled deeply. "I'm really sorry for this, Miss. But, I don't see any other way." She made the mistake of closing her eyes for concentration. The moment the young girl saw that she had an advantage, she sprang forward. Fortunately, the chain was too short for her. She let out a loud gasp as the chains tugged on her leg, making her fall face forward into a pile of tiny broken glass. Elara took a staggering step backward, her eyes wide with fear. Seraphina came up to the fallen girl quickly, despite the fact that second before she was threatening them.

"Elara! Get Nurse!" Elara, frightened out of her mind, took off and ran down the hall.

Seraphina turned her attention to the poor girl in front of her. "Oh, sweetie. Come on, let me help you up." The girl didn't fight back when Seraphina lifted her up and turned her over to inspect her face. Turns out she was unconscious.

The sight almost made the older woman throw up then and there. Blood ran down the girl's left cheek, tiny pieces of glass protruding from the soft flesh. Before any more damage could be done; the glass was warm and slick in her cold hands.

Seraphina didn't attempt to remove any of the glass in case she should push them further in the girl's cheek. Until Nurse come, Seraphina helped the girl by cleaning the area around her and by placing her apron against the girl's wrists to stop the bleeding.

What would the master think? Surely they would be severely punished for causing such a mess and harm done to the girl?

Her mind was going in circles.

"Nurse is here!" shouted Elara behind her. A lady in a pristine white doctor's coat followed Elara as they ran down the hall, a first aid kit in her hands. Bouche was also following close behind them.

The nurse knelt down beside Seraphina and grimaced. "His Master won't like this one bit. Sera, please hold her face still." The girl's eyes were beginning to flutter open. Sera watched as the nurse opened her kit and pulled out a pair of tweezer while holding the girl's face steady in her lap, her left cheek exposed.

"Remember Sera, hold her still. El, hold her arms; Bouche, take her legs."

When Nurse pulled out the first shard of glass from the girl's face, her eyes flew open and she began to thrash around. A warble escaped the girl's lips.

Seraphina cursed softly, struggling to keep the girl's face straight. "Elara, do something!" Bouche shouted. Elara kept shaking her head, murmuring to herself "I can't I can't" over and over again. After the accident earlier, Sera knew why Elara is so reluctant to use her gift.

Finally, after a few stressful minutes, the girl seems to settle down, either from fatigue or knowing that these people were trying to help her, they don't know.

"Does anybody else know about this?"

"No," the nurse said, carefully taking out another piece of glass. "I'm pretty sure. There was Mrs. Jasmine, but I doubt she'd heard. The kids were a being quite a handful."

Silence fell over the crew after that. The girl's breathing slowed, and after a while she closed her eyes, seeming like she's asleep.

"We need to move her... Or keep her somewhere until this room is cleaned up," Bouche announced.

"I can house her," Seraphina spoke up. "Master assigned her to be, she's my responsibility. I'll accept her and the consequences."

"Are you sure?"

Sera nodded.

"Hmm okay, then it's settled. Hey, girl, wake up." Bouche gave one of the girl's legs a light smack; she sprang upright instantly, clarity soon clear in her eyes.

"Whoa there, sweetie," the nurse said, holding a cloth to the girl's cheek, "you're still bleeding."

"Sera, go ahead and move the girl. We'll stay here and clean up."

Sera left to find the key to the girl's shackles; when she came back, she found the girl sitting quietly in a corner if the room, the space relatively clean. She approached the girl slowly, showing her the key in her hand. "Hey, I'm just going to unchain you ok? You'll be living in my room for the time being. Does that sound ok?"

The girl just narrowed her eyes, but she brought out her ankles anyway, her eyes never straying from the tiny rusted key in the maid's hand.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the soft humming that woke Rosemary up from her nightmares. She'd dreamed of her man, a dragon, and people made out of glass, black blood dripping down their fronts. The glass people were chasing after her, trying to cut her in pieces, trying to make her one of them. The man was calling out to her, but his voice was everywhere at once; he was slowly slipping away from her. As she sat up from her cot, her head a bit dizzy, her breathing ragged, the humming stopped.

A lady came up to her; Rosemary didn't back away, either from exhaustion or confusion she couldn't tell. She knows this woman. Yesterday...

"Oh, darling, you're awake! I was beginning to worry you were dead." Her voice was warped in Rosemary's ears like she was hearing the words through a barrier of water.

Rosemary gave her a startled look. But the maid went on, not seeming to notice Rosemary's reaction. "You caused quite a ruckus for us yesterday, miss," Seraphina began, continuing to make her bed and fluff the pillows. "Master was indeed furious."

The young girl doesn't know what to say. Why was this lady acting so friendly with her when she'd was being a menace to them just hours ago? This was a trick, Rosemary was sure of it. After the maid removed her cuffs, Rosemary's memories became a little fuzzy; she didn't remember much after that. She was only aware that someone was half carrying her down a dark hallway. And then there was a sharp pain at her temple.

That freaked her out a little. Did they do something to her, went back on their act of kindness and attacked her to teach her a lesson for misbehaving? Rosemary shuddered at the thought.

The maid went over to her vanity, a gorgeous mahogany stand with vials and bottles scattered about. Some of the bottles seem familiar, a distant memory. Rosemary looked at the table; something seems off. But she couldn't put her finger on it. Was something missing?

"When you came into my room yesterday, you had quite the episode, my dear," said the maid, dusting the bottles and vials with precision. "You began to thrash around, banged your poor head on this table here and fainted." She pointed to a spot on the table's surface. "Let me see your face, by the way. I helped reduce the swelling last night but you can't be too careful. Come, miss." The maid beckoned Rosemary to come sit on the chair in front of the vanity. The girl eyed the lady and the table. After deciding that they couldn't do her any harm, at least not the maid, Rosemary gingerly made her way over.

Pressure on her feet made her look down; someone had wrapped bandages around her ankles. She'd also noticed them around her wrists. Spots of red dotted the white bandages, some bright, others a dark crimson. They reek of iron.

"Go on, sit. It's not like the chair's going to turn to life."

Peculiar, thought Rosemary. The maid tried to make small talk to Rosemary as she inspected the girl's wounds, changing the bandages, applying cream, and whatnot.

At one point, she gave Rosemary a curious look and said, "You don't talk much do you?" Rosemary just shook her head, she couldn't even talk if she wanted to. Her vocals cords didn't want to work, she decided the night before. But that didn't stop the maid from chatting away like they were old pals that haven't seen each other in eons.

Rosemary found out that the maid was named Seraphina, Seraphina Lune. She was a maid at the Treesworth Mansion, whatever that meant, and that two of her closest friends were also here. "You've meant them yesterday if you remember."

She did; it wasn't a pleasant memory.

When asked her name, Rosemary simply just stared at Seraphina for a few seconds before letting out a warbled sort of sound. The maid gave a small chuckled, "You are a strange one. Well, let's get you dressed. Master had requested your presence in his study by noon. We don't want to keep him waiting." Noon? That seems a little late. Rosemary scanned the room for a clock; there was one on a nightstand beside the recently made bed. 10:28.

In just a short time, Seraphina washed, brush, and dressed Rosemary. She was given a plain, white cloth dress, and slippers.

It was such a nice feeling, to feel clean and fresh and new. Her bandages were redone; Rosemary noticed Seraphina squirm when she was exposing the raw and bruised skin for cleaning, although she didn't give it much thought as to why. She tried to remember if whether or not she flinched the first time when she changed the tourniquets.

Maybe she was just nervous because it was fifteen minutes until noon time?

"There you go, miss," Seraphina said cheerfully, her voice a bit too high, She gently fastened the bandages around Rosemary's ankles; not too tight nor lose. "Master awaits. Come along now."

Seraphina led Rosemary down the twisting halls and corridors of the house. Even though she was scared out of her wits, she couldn't help herself admiring the house (she assumed it was a house) and getting lost in her thoughts.

The halls were decorated with a lot of marble and stone and portraits. They were marvelous to look at; the stone and marble statues and the vivid portraits. She found herself looking at a huge family portrait, about twice her height, hanging on to left wall. It showed her a happy family: a diplomatic father wearing various colored medallions standing next to a lovely woman in a black, high collared long coat with bell-shaped sleeves. They were standing behind a white couch, their arms around each other, looking down fawningly at three little kids on the couch, all boys.

Seraphina explained it was the late masters and their three boys. That much was pretty obvious, Rosemary wanted to say. Rosemary smiled a little. Is this the family that owns the house? She then remembers the predicament that she was in, like for the fourth time, and instantly felt disgusted with herself. She frowned, averting her eyes quickly, and continued following the maid. They two women passed an eerily dark room; it gave Rosemary the chills. Before she could stop to inspect the depressing room, Seraphina snapped her fingers and told the girl to hurry up, it was seven minutes until noon.

They passed a window. Rosemary had to do a double take. Outside was beautiful. She knew she was a Lunar; it was a nagging feeling in her chest that told her that she was. But she did doubt herself. The gorgeous view outside eliminated all of that doubt. Endless stars glowed beyond the towering buildings, sparkling the sky in their brilliance. The city far below was filled with moving dots interacting with each other. People, Rosemary reminded herself. They look like ants.

Rosemary pondered on the view, something seems off. But that's a thought for later.

They turned a corner, and Seraphina staggered back a step, bumping into Rosemary. Rosemary flinched back, holding her nose, eyes glaring at Seraphina and the intimidating man in front of them.

"Master! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there. I was just retrieving the girl to you, as you've requested." Rosemary tried to look up at the man, and back away, moving to hide behind the maid like she was some sort of shield. She cursed herself for being so weak.

The man was so tall, so tall that she was afraid to raise her head and look into his face; he was at least a foot taller than her. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was looking at her. His eyes, those eyes were piercing into her, she just knew it. Even behind the maid she still could feel his eyes going through her.

This man was dangerous, she could feel it in her bones.

"Um, miss?" Seraphina moved aside. Curse her to the earth and back.

Rosemary shot daggers at the man, despite herself trembling from her head to her toes. She must look like a frightened puppy.

"Yes, thank you, Sera," came the man's low rumble of a voice. Rosemary glanced over to the maid; she was wearing an apologetic smile, like the one she wore when they first met. Rosemary hated that smile.

Seraphina quickly looked at the floor, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "Yes, master. She'll be in your care now." She bowed at the man before scurrying off. Rosemary watched the maid as she turned the corner and speed walk down the corridor, her footsteps fading as she shrinks away.

"Come."

His voice snapped her head back towards him, her heartbeat racing and her breathing loud in the silence.

She could run away right now. She should run away right now, she told herself over and over again. But she doesn't trust her legs; they still ache from the day before. She was so weak, she knew it. She wouldn't even run three feet before her feet collapsed under her. So she followed the man, keeping a safe distance between him and her in case something happens.

It was a quiet and unsettling walk, each step leading Rosemary further into the unknown. Pictures lined the walls, like in the last hall; except this time, the man in the military uniform and the woman in the black coat didn't appear in any of the portraits. It was just the three boys, but they were grown up in the pictures. She remembered Seraphina saying that they died seven years ago, their deaths unknown. Rosemary recognized one of the boys in the pictures as the man in front of her. He was taller than the others so Rosemary assumed he was the oldest.

The eyes in the paintings seem to follow her as she walked down the hall. _Don't think about them!_ she growled out in her head, resisting the urge to slap her cheeks. _You're just being paranoid. Calm down._

A few minutes passed and she couldn't take it anymore. She kept glancing at the paintings and the broad back of her captor, the heels of his shoes making a deafening click click click. It's driving her insane. Her heart was beating too hard, too loud to be ignored. Sweat was dripping down her face, her chest, her arms, and legs. She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the welcoming corridor and its strange familiarity. She slowed her steps as the man continued to stride forward. Rosemary hoped he was stupid enough to trust her to just continue to follow him. Unfortunately, he was not. Just when she was about to make a run for it, the man's voice cut through the silence.

She cursed herself for being so weak for the nth time.

"I'm a bit disappointed." Despite herself, Rosemary scoffed. What did he, mister powerful and intimidating, have to be disappointed in?

"I'd expected you to put up a fight. After your little scene," he said that word coldly like it was a cursed word, "yesterday, I would have thought you'd challenge me, not follow me silently for ten minutes." He spoke as him they were familiar with each other. Rosemary shuddered, not wanting to believe that once in the past they were acquaintances. She doesn't know much about him, but she does know that he was the one who gave the orders to take her, it was a gut feeling.

He stopped in front of a door. It was identical to Seraphina's door. A guard stood beside the door, a menacing looking gun in his hands.

"This will be your new room from now on. After the incident yesterday, Sera and I agreed that keeping you in that.. other room was not the wisest choice in keeping an eye on you. Sera has agreed to share the room with you to attend to your needs and necessities." He nodded at the guard who then promptly opened the door. The "master" then looked at Rosemary, eyeing her up and down like she was a broken mannequin. "She must trust you enough to not put you in chains," he took a step closer to the smaller girl. "Or she's just naive. Don't pull that stunt again, for Sera's sake. Lincoln, please see to it that the girl settles down nicely. Sera will be with you shortly."

Rosemary stopped listening to his words after she heard Seraphina's name. She was beginning to think she could trust the maid, as ridiculous as it seems. She was this man's accomplice, her enemy; she would always be the enemy. She felt disappointed herself for her stupidity.

She let the guard, Lincoln, lead her into her new room, her new prison.

Slowly, she promised herself. She would escape slowly. When the doors closed, and the soft click of the lock was heard, Rosemary went over to her new bed, a million thoughts coursing through her mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** It's winter break! No school! No homework! I'm immensely happy right now; I finally get to sleep TUT


End file.
